Epistles
by Shimy
Summary: This one-shot is set almost directly after the end of episode 6x14, so watch out for spoilers if you have not seen the episode yet. Rated T for implied stuff at the end, but honestly there's nothing shocking. Complete.


**Author's note: Hey everyone! **** I hope that everybody who has been lucky enough to watch episode 6x14 already (myself included) enjoyed it as much as I did. This one-shot is set almost directly after the end of the episode, so watch out for spoilers if you have not seen the episode yet.  
Also, I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who read and reviewed **_**Fate Misnamed**_**. The response was very positive and really warmed my heart. Made my day! So, thank you very, very much!  
Of course, I still don't own **_**Castle**_** and English is still my third language. Feel free to point out any mistakes you spot, though.  
Also, if you happen to like reading with some music on, this was written to the sound of "Central Park" (the 15****th**** track of the original soundtrack for the 2005 **_**King Kong**_** movie). It's a gorgeous piece of music and really fits the atmosphere.  
And now, without further ado, enjoy your reading! (And when you're done, if you feel like it, do take a minute to hit that 'review' button!)  
**

* * *

**Epistles**

* * *

Whereas Kate seemed to be sleeping soundly beside him, Richard Castle lay wide awake. Too many ideas and thoughts were coursing through his mind and they effectively prevented him from letting sleep take over him. _"Do you know what else I wish she could experience? You."_, Kate had said earlier, when she had confessed the real reason why she had momentarily freaked out about getting married in spring instead of September, as they had originally planned.  
Now, not only did she want the both of them to get married in the spring but she had also told him Johanna Beckett would have loved him.

And as he tightened his grip on his fiancée's waist to draw her closer to his own body, he felt ridiculously proud, happy and somewhat sad about that concept.

He was pretty sure he would have liked Johanna Beckett, too, the same way he liked Jim. He had known that for a long time already, and he truly wished he could have had the pleasure of meeting her. So when he heard Kate tell him that Johanna would have _loved_ him, that she would have been _happy_ about him becoming her son-in-law, something inside him had swelled with bittersweet pride and longing.

He figured one of the reasons for that was the fact he had never had a good relationship with Meredith's mother, or Gina's for that matter. And there was no need to mention Kyra's mother. God,the very second Sheila Blaine had laid her eyes on him, he had outright _known_ she positively hated him and that nothing he could do would ever change that. Unless he committed suicide, maybe.

He let out a chuckle in spite of himself. Yeah, that would definitely have helped him climb a few steps into Sheila Blaine's esteem.

"Mmm…What're you thinking 'bout, Babe?" Kate mumbled quietly as she rolled over to snuggle into his chest.

Oh. Maybe she had not been sleeping as soundly as he had figured, then.

He briefly wondered whether he should tell her what exactly he had been thinking about or not and ultimately decided against it. He had a distinct feeling mentioning the mother of his first love whilst he was in bed with his fiancée wasn't exactly the smartest move he could pull off at that moment.

"Nothing important, don't worry about it. It's just my overactive imagination being, well, overactive."

She hummed a quiet laugh before dropping a couple of gentle, soft kisses onto his shoulder and neck. Silence stretched comfortably.

"You wanna talk about it?" She asked him drowsily after a couple minutes had passed by.

He smiled and shook his head in response, feeling touched and slightly amused. She could barely keep her eyes open and yet still wanted to have a conversation. He knew she needed the rest, though.

"No, but thank you. I think I'm going to write in my office for a little while" he told her as he slowly disengaged himself from her embrace and got up from the bed. "You go back to sleep."

"Mm…'kay. Love you."

He smiled before bending over the comforter to kiss her forehead.

"I love you too."

She burrowed her nose into his pillow in response, her breathing evening as her body completely relaxed.

* * *

When Kate woke up again, about one hour later, she could not help but groan when she realized her fiancé had still not come back to bed. It wasn't like she didn't know her writer sometimes needed to write his thoughts down so they would leave him alone, she knew that perfectly well, but tonight she wished he had stayed with her.

She grudgingly sighed – just once, just for the sake of it – and slowly dragged herself out of bed before putting her wardrobe on. Her feet felt quite cold on the floor but she really did not want to waste any time looking for her slippers. Rubbing her eyes, she made her way out of the bedroom and into Castle's office.

He had his back to her, and seemed to be re-reading whatever it was that he had needed to get out of his head. Kate watched him silently for a little while and noticed the black ink and fountain-pen that were set on the desk just beside his right forearm.  
Her eyebrows rose in quiet surprise. She knew that pen alright – it used to be her mother's. It was also the one her father had given to Rick several months ago. When he had been told his daughter and her partner were getting married, Jim had been overjoyed for the both of them. A couple of weeks later, he had paid Rick a visit and had given him Johanna's most trusted fountain-pen, after telling him that she probably would have liked it to be properly taken care of instead of gathering dust inside the main drawer of what was once her desk.

Rick had been humbled by her father's gesture. As a writer, he perfectly knew the value of a reliable pen. Hell, pens were one thing Kate knew she could never buy him without having his consent first. And as far as his fountain-pens were concerned, he _never_ let her – or anyone else, for that matter – borrow them. Byros? No problem. He would lend them to her whenever she wished. But fountain-pens? Not so much. He was adamant about that.

Kate also knew Castle only used his fountain-pens for special occasions – occasions that he deemed worthy enough for him to put in the extra care and effort.

Her curiosity piqued, she walked the remaining distance that separated her from him and snaked her arms around his shoulders and neck, pressing her front into the back of his desk chair. He nearly cried out in surprise and she could not help but smirk to herself. It really was way too easy to make him jump out of his skin when he was stuck in his "writer's zone", as he liked to call it.

"God, Kate, why do you keep doing that?"

"Because it's funny." She pecked his cheek with a broad smile tugging at her lips for good measure. She peppered a few more kisses to his neck before peering inquisitively above his shoulder and realizing with sudden displeasure that he had taken the time to hide whatever he had been writing from her view.

"What were you doing?"

"Writing a letter. An epistle, to be clearer." He answered simply, bringing one hand up to stroke hers.

Kate's eyes narrowed and he must have felt it through the way her embrace hardened. She did not exactly like the idea of him writing a letter that he felt like she should not see. However, this was Castle she was holding in her arms and Kate now knew jumping to conclusions whenever he was concerned was often the wrong decision to make.

"Okay. To whom?"

He turned his head to get a better look at her face, seemingly trying to gauge whether it was safe for him to be truthful about what he had been up to or not.

"Castle." She warned him, letting him know she was not going to back down from this, not until she had her answer.

"…Promise you won't be mad?"

Well, that certainly was not the most intelligent thing to say, he realized all too quickly, when he felt her body stiffen behind him. It definitely was not going to play in his favor.

"Castle. Give me that letter. Now."

Her voice made it clear she wasn't going to take no for an answer. He sighed - just once - and reached into the top left drawer of his desk, pulling a neatly folded sheet of paper out of it and handing it over to his fiancée who was now impatiently standing beside him.

She took the letter from his hand and quickly unfolded it. Before she began reading, though, she made sure to glare at her partner and the way he visibly lowered his gaze to the floor did not do anything to reassure her.

She started reading.

And _nothing _could have prepared her for _that_.

* * *

_Dear Johanna,_

_I feel like I should apologize. I know it's been a while since I last wrote to you, but in my defense, things have been pretty hectic here. After tonight, though, I knew I couldn't put it off any longer._

_First things first: we're getting married sooner than we had previously planned. We're aiming for spring 2014 now! How awesome is that?_

_Kate and I have had some big experiences over the last couple of months.  
Some were pleasant, some were the exact opposite, some were downright terrifying – but let's not focus on that - and some others made the adjective 'wonderful' reach a whole new level._

_One of those experiences was when we took a baby boy in, just before Thanksgiving.  
Benny – that's the baby's name, by the way, in case you were wondering – only stayed one night here at the loft, but it was enough for me to see just how utterly fantastic a mother Kate will one day be.  
She said "when we have a baby of our own…". __**When**__, not if. And it makes me feel so happy, and so proud of her. I do have a feeling, however, that if we end up with a son, she won't let me name him Cosmo. Maybe she will let me use it as a nickname, though. We'll see._

_Speaking of Thanksgiving, we also had Jim come over to celebrate with us. We had a good time together. He's doing fine and seems genuinely happy about being included into our family. I also asked him if I could accompany him to a baseball game one of these days, and he agreed. Whether my mother is going to come with us, well, that is another question entirely._

_Johanna, your daughter never ceases to amaze me. _

_Just a couple of weeks ago, she let the world know that we were engaged. I had wanted to announce our engagement publicly for quite some time already, but I respected her need for privacy and wasn't about to give her any reason not to trust me.  
And the fact that she did it on her own – that she stood up for us – to let everyone know we were both off the market forever, that was something I certainly did not expect, and something I am so very happy about._

_Don't even get me started on how much it means to me that she cares so deeply about my daughter. If you do get me started on that topic, I am afraid this letter will be much, much longer than anticipated. _

_And tonight – tonight, Johanna, Kate told me you would have loved me.  
And Kate would never lie about that.  
I am humbled, and honored.  
For the record, I would have loved you, too. I believe the both of us would have made a fantastic team! _

_On a much sadder note, we still haven't found a way to make William H. Bracken pay for what he did to you. For what he did to Jim, and for what he did to Kate.  
We are waiting for him to make a mistake – and he will make one, eventually.  
And then, we will make him face his past and his actions. _

_I promise you, Johanna, he will not get away with this forever.  
And Kate will never have to face her demons on her own ever again. _

_No one hurts my family and gets to leave unscathed. And since Kate and I are now engaged, that makes you family, too. _

_Our stories, just like our lives, are entwining. _

_In the meantime – and until my next letter – please keep watching over us.  
You've done a mighty fine job so far, and I see no reason why that would change._

_After all, Kate said you would have loved me._

_With my very best regards, along with hugs – I've been told I'm an exceptional hugger – and love._

_Your future son-in-law,_

_Rick Castle._

* * *

When Kate looked up again, tears were brimming in her eyes, threatening to roll down her cheeks any second now. Glancing down at her fiancé, she could not help but feel her heart swell with love for him.

"Rick – this is…I don't even have words. I –

"You're not mad, then?"

She looked at him as if he'd grown a second head before quickly sitting into his lap and encircling her arms around his neck.

"Are you crazy? Of course I'm not mad! Why would I?"

"Well, uh – I don't know where your mom's grave is and I wasn't sure whether you'd be happy about me going there with you so writing letters to your mom seemed the best alternative for me to, uh, communicate with her. I didn't tell you because I thought maybe you'd feel like I was invading something I should not. And I didn't want to hurt you so-

Kate promptly cut him off by crushing her lips to his. He did not seem to complain. When she pulled back a moment later, she brought both of her hands to cup his face and force him to look into her eyes, from which tears were now definitely leaking.

"God, Castle. You've been writing letters to my mom."

"I have." He acquiesced.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Um, pretty much since you told me about what happened to her."

Kate opened her mouth in silent shock whilst he used that opportunity to brush her tears away and then she quickly regained her composure. "Are you even for _real_? How many letters have you actually written?"

"I don't know. I've lost count."

"Can I – Could you maybe show them to me? Please?"

"No. I'm sorry, Kate, but I can't."

"Oh." was all she replied before she dropped her gaze down with a sense of dejection.  
She understood, though. What she was asking for was probably too private. In the era of e-mails, voicemails, phone calls and texts, actual letters – or epistles, as Castle had pointed out – bore a level of incredible intimacy.

"Kate, you don't understand." came the soothing voice of her writer. She looked up again, and was quite stunned to see him smiling softly at her.

"If I could show you the letters I wrote to your mother, I would. But I can't, because I've sent them."

Again, Kate could not help but wonder whether her fiancé had finally gone completely mad. How could someone send letters to people who did not even exist anymore?

He seemed to follow her train of thoughts and chuckled quietly to himself.

"Let me put this into an envelope and then we'll send it together, okay?"

She nodded wordlessly, her attention now completely enraptured by the surreal scene that was unfolding in front of her eyes. Castle gently took the letter from her hands and folded it again with the greatest care in the world. He then reached for the envelope that was set on top of his desk, just beside the fountain-pen, and proceeded to put his latest epistle to Johanna Beckett into it.

After having adorned the back of the envelope with a wax seal – Kate had found out not too long ago that Castle loved wax seals with a passion – he picked up his fountain pen and carefully wrote his fiancée's mother's name on the front.

"There, all set and ready to go." he declared with obvious satisfaction. "Come with me."

He took her hand and she let him lead her to the living room. Surely they wouldn't be going outside at such an ungodly hour in the morning, would they?

But Castle stopped in front of the fireplace. Letting go of her hand, he entrusted the envelope into her care while he carefully opened the glass barrier that separated the living-room from the actual fire.

And that was when it suddenly made sense. She felt the pieces of the puzzle come together and click into place and she found she had some trouble breathing.

Castle recognized the look on Kate's face as understanding dawned on her. He grinned brightly, and she was momentarily struck –again – by how incredibly beautiful the man who stood in front of her was. Not just his body, but all the things he believed in.

"Castle…"

"Seemed like the best way she would get them. Go on," he instructed her with an encouraging smile, gesturing to the roaring flames that seemed to dance in front of them, "post it."

She looked down at the envelope she was holding, and then carefully tossed it into the fire where it quickly burnt to ashes and smoke. And both smoke and ashes ascended the air throughout the chimney and up into the night sky, where they could be carried by the wind towards their destination, wherever that might be.

Later that night, as the both of them lay in bed again, Kate promised Castle she would bring him along the next time she visited her mother's grave. He smiled and drew her closer to him, bending over her body to kiss her with all the love he felt for her.

Before they finally succumbed to sleep, their bodies warm, relaxed and sated, she vowed that from now on, she would write letters to her mother on a regular basis. Because amongst all the different things Richard Castle had brought to her ever since he had barged into her life more than five years ago, he had made her _believe_.

And that was something she would spend the rest of her life thanking him for.

* * *

**Second author's note: if you didn't like the concept, well, that's okay, but please don't bash it because it is something I do myself every once in while, and have been doing ever since my own father died, back in May 2011. So please respect that. Thank you. :-)  
**


End file.
